When The Door Creaks Open
"I don't know what has come over me. It feels so fuckin' good. Living in this moment in time, I want it to last forever!"
Blanche uttered this in subdued tones, not wising to wake the other girls in the house. Blanche looked upon the photos of her prison pen pal as though they were pictures of a lover she had known all her life. She admired the way his body muscularly bulged with its tattoos of womens' eyes and swallows of paradise. She felt her soul could transcend to another plane looking at him. She thought so...anyway. Her hand began to move slowly from her perky bosoms beneath, under her housecoat to the gloriously vegetated area of her bush. It had not been wet in awhile. This was a fact of biology. She still could not help but press herself beneath and moan like a spooked cow.
"Oooo. I never want to move," Blanche cooed in ecstasy.
The fact remained that at anytime, Dorothy, Sophia, or Rose might accidentally walk in on her that way, rubbing herself to the photo of the man from behind bars, far way. This made her tremble even more so.
"Oooooooooo. It feels so good," Blanche chirped as she moaned in bemused pleasure, fingering herself even more forcefully, caressing her frosted hair with her other hand.
Just then, Blanche's bedroom door began to creak open. Dorothy could be seen in the lurid half light of her bedroom lamp, looking as staunch and tall as ever. Her manly limbs sank beneath her housecoat duster as her eyes twinkled wistfully at Blanche's barren chest. Blanche continued to push her finger in and out of herself despite Dorothy's presence. She had to seal the deal with the new man from the photo she connected with. Just then, Dorothy began to say something.
"That's it, baby. That's what mama wants. I've been waiting for you to do this so many times. Guess this time, I got lucky..."
"Dorothy, you're so lewd and crude. But that's exactly what I like, honey. Come over here," Blanche crooned.
Dorothy sauntered over to the bed and started rubbing Blanche's legs in fits of impulsive pleasure. Blanche seemed to have something on her mind. She looked off into the distance as one would abstract into the depths of some dark enigma. Dorothy began to lick Blanche's pussy lips as if they were a candy apple, gently, supply.
"Beg me honey. Beg me. You know that I want you to beg me for. My sweet surprise."
"Your surprise is so soft, like a lily petal," Dorothy moaned in a raspy voice.
"Hit me, now, Dorothy. Hit me. Make me your bitch!"
Dorothy began to bludgeon Blanche on the face. Blanche squirmed in delight. Blanche's eyes remained fixed on the photo of her prison pen pal. His blue eyes, his rugged skin. She bayed like a wolf and arched her back to the electric sensation she felt inside her thighs. Dorothy continued to impale her finger inside of Blanche's blubbery shell. She heard the sounds of her sliding finger, and began to trail off to another reality, beyond dream.
"Your pen pal. Your pen pal. Let it be me..." Dorothy eagerly pleaded.
"You can't be, honey. You're very far from what I want. Thank you for touching me, doll, but I have to focus in on what my heart desires. A man...When I heard that door creak open, I knew it would be someone to help me- to help make my dream become not so unreal for just awhile."
"When the door creaks open, I always see you lying there. I wish you could understand," Dorothy forcefully retorted.
In that instant, Blanche wailed as she squirted all over the room. Her climax could reach higher than any lofty peak. She sunk into her bed with pleasure.
"Now get out, Dorothy. You've served your purpose."
The door creaked behind her...